Outcast
by KaylieMarieKyle
Summary: Neither human nor Demigod, Atlanta feels like she may never fit in. But when her parents, Percy and Annabeth Jackson send her off to a camp for demigods, and a new prophecy gives her a starring role, Atlanta finally feels like she's found a home. OCxOC
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Percy Jackson and The Olympians. All rights belong to Rick Riordan.**

A/N

Wow! My second fanfiction. This one will be a long one. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with it.

So I've always played out little scenes in my head with Percy and Annabeth's daughter, and I always really liked the idea. So I decided to make it concrete, and _**voila**_**! I'm testing it out on you guys!**

Constructive criticism accepted and encouraged.

¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸

"Watch it, freak," someone said as they elbowed past me. I stumbled, and looked up at the person through my glasses. My hair fell in my eyes, as I looked at the back of the kid who had just barreled past me. I sighed. I didn't even know the kid, but my reputation had spread apparently. Reputation of what exactly I didn't know. Maybe it was my looks. I've often looked in the mirror and resented my sea green eyes mixed with my mousy blond hair against my tan skin. Put my glasses on, my shortness and my terrible sense of fashion, and I never exactly fit in anywhere.

But it wasn't like I had super-natural powers or anything. Not like my parents.

The bell rang. Where had the time gone? I was left in the hallway with the kids who didn't care about being late or not.

I made my way down the hall and opened up my classroom door. My teacher looked at me disapprovingly and wrote my name on the board under 'TARDY'. Kids snickered. What was this, Kindergarten? Why did she feel the need to write my name on the board? I sighed and took my seat.

"Pass your homework up please," the teacher, Ms. Ghansa, said. I opened my backpack and started looking for it.

Someone hit the back of my head with their paper. I turned around, and grabbed the paper. Immature.

Less than two minutes later, the teacher was collecting the homework from the first person in every row. And I was still looking for the homework. Truth be told, I wasn't even sure I had done the homework.

"Atlanta?" Ms. Ghansa said. I stopped rustling through my backpack and looked up. I realized that I had been making a whole lot of noise.

"Yes?" I asked, slowly zipping up my backpack, resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be turning in my homework.

"Homework?" She asked. I shook my head, and looked down at my desk. My teacher sighed.

_Well, it's not like I wanted to not turn it in. I've got problems! Problems that make it almost impossible for me to have time doing homework, let alone concentrating on it. _It's like my teacher thinks that I want to fail.

The rest of the math class went by painfully slow. Ms. Ghansa was explaining The Pythagorean Theorem. I was trying to take notes, but my dyslexia made it painful to try and get all the numbers written down in the right order. So by the end of the class I had given up, and was drawing random doodles on my piece of notebook paper.

I was in the middle of perfecting a heart when the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I quickly gathered my things, excited at the prospect of the weekend – Two whole days where I don't have to deal with people. I'm really not a fan of people, in case you hadn't caught on.

"Atlanta," my teacher called. I sighed. I had almost escaped, I was almost free. The door closed as the last kid left the class.

"Yes?" I asked, turning around. Ms. Ghansa was arranging papers on her desk, probably the homework that I didn't turn in.

"We need to talk," she said.

_I kinda figured_, I thought, but decided to keep that to myself. After all, she _was_ in charge of my grade in this class.

"Atlanta your grades," my heart fell and a pit started forming in my chest.

"What about them?" I asked quietly. I knew exactly what – I was finally failing. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

"Atlanta if you don't get your grades up you're going to need to take this class again. Either next year or in summer school." she said, delivering the awful news. I stood there silently, beyond the point of protesting. I knew this was coming, so I didn't really have anything to complain about.

Ms. Ghansa sighed heavily, obviously disappointed with my lack of response. I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry? I'll work harder? The thing is, there's nothing I could have done to get my grades up. It wasn't my fault that I couldn't do the work. And she didn't seem to care that I had an actual disability.

"I guess I'll try to work harder," I ended up saying. After all, I didn't want her for an enemy. I desperately needed this grade – to get into the high school I wanted to. It's a high school in another state, an arts school, and they only accept people with at least average grades. Everything has to have at least a 'C' on everything, but it was starting to look like I would be taking an 'F' in math.

"Please do so," my teacher said. She also really wanted me to get a good grade. I guess it would affect her job to have a student fail.

I walked out of the classroom without saying 'Goodbye.' It would've been awkward, seeing how we don't even like each other.

Now you might be thinking that I'm going to introduce you to the one person who makes everything worthwhile. My one friend, who I share everything with. Who understands. Well, I'm going to tell you right now that I don't have anyone like that. I walked the halls alone to the car line, where my mother was waiting for me.

I climbed into the front seat of the grayish blue car. I threw my backpack in the back seat as my mom drove us away from the school.

"How was your day?" She asked. I sighed.

"Same as usual," I said. Should I tell her the situation with my grades? If anything, my mother should understand, she's dyslexic just like me.

"Homework?" She asked me, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I've got a couple questions in science, and a worksheet in math," I answered.

"You should probably get started on that," my mother said, "Use your time wisely."

I sighed as I reached back for my backpack. My mother's constantly telling me to 'use my time wisely' or to 'think things through' or other stuff like that. Just because she's a daughter of Athena.

Home wasn't very far away – about 10 minutes, so before I had even started on my math, we were home. As we pulled in I noticed my dad's car in the driveway. That didn't make sense.

"Wait, why is your dad home?" My mother asked, almost to herself. I shrugged and gathered my things. With our luck, he had probably gotten fired from his job again. He hadn't kept the same job for more than one year at a time. It was a miracle that he kept finding more work.

Like, it was an actual miracle. The gods were helping us out on that one.

As I walked by our little fountain (with a sculpture of Poseidon) I tried to see if I could make it move or something. I started concentrating really hard, trying to at least make it pour faster. Nothing. Typical.

I walked past, frustrated, only to find that my mom had been watching me the whole time. She tried to give me a smile, but it didn't work. I wasn't in the mood to be happy.

I followed my mom into the house, admiring the owl sculptures on either side of our door. I'd always liked the owl; it was such a beautiful bird, in my opinion. Others find them creepy. My hand reached up to touch the silver owl necklace that I was wearing.

My dad was sitting on the deep blue leather couch, watching TV. He didn't seem all that worried.

"Hey, why are you home so early?" My mother asked, setting her stuff down. Usually my dad doesn't get home until around 7 or 8. He fixes pipes and such for a living. Well, now he does. He used to work at different aquariums, off and on. I guess the gods hadn't gotten a little tired this time around and decided that we could settle for less.

"No big deal," he said, getting up off the couch. He was pretty tall, and imposing. My dad had jet black hair, and sea green eyes, like mine.

And yeah, he's a son of Poseidon.

He's actually the only son of Poseidon right now. All the others are dead, and the god had made an oath to never have kids again. This was after World War 2. No, my dad's not 90 years old. Poseidon broke his oath about 40 years ago. I hear the story all the time. Everything from how he offered my grandmother to come live with him under the sea, to my dad's birth, to the Titan War, to all of the other great adventures that my dad has gone through.

My mom actually went through just about all the same adventures.

"I'm guessing you need to start looking for another job?" I asked, setting my stuff down on the couch. I headed over to get myself some water.

"No, actually, I left work early so that I could talk with you and your mother," my dad said.

"About what?" I asked, getting a cup down from the cabinet.

"About camp this summer."

I dropped my cup.

"Camp?" I asked, "what do you mean, camp? I thought I wasn't allowed to go places by myself – besides school – because it was too dangerous." I was astonished at the idea. I had never even _thought_ of leaving the house without my parents by my side. Let alone going to camp.

"I'm not talking about an average everyday camp, Atlanta," my father started. I picked up my cup.

"Percy, are you sure?" My mom asked, "I thought we were going to try to get away from, you know, _that._ And besides, she's not even a demigod."

"I know, I know," my father said, "but I've been talking Chiron lately, and he said that it would be completely fine for her to go to camp for the summer. He even said that he would encourage it, to be prepared just in case anything _did_ happen."

I was confused beyond anything. Well, no, not really. I did have an idea.

Could this be the famous camp my parents attended when they were kids. The one that dealt with Greek gods and monster fighting? I'm not sure that I would want to go.

"But..." my mother said, faltering.

"I don't want to go," I said, plainly, filling my cup with water. I took a sip and waited for their reactions.

"I don't want you to go either," my mom said, sitting down on the couch.

My dad sighed, "look, Annabeth, Atlanta, you're going to camp and that's final."

"But I don't belong there!" I burst out, "I'm not even a demigod, like mom said. I'm like, a demi-demigod or something. And I don't have any magical abilities. I'll be out of place, like everywhere."

"Well, if your out of place everywhere, then there's nothing different about camp," my dad said, smiling, "and don't even try to argue, either one of you. I've made the decision, and no one can change it."

I turned on my heels and walked to my bedroom, without saying another word. I closed the door and turned on my music, but not before hearing my mother say that they 'weren't finished talking about this.'

But the next day my father informed me that I would be going to the camp, Camp Half-Blood, for the summer. I reacted with silence, and tried to find something good about the whole thing.

Maybe that I wouldn't be bored this summer. No, instead of being bored, I can go through an entire year of getting made fun without stopping. I could hardly wait.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

Wow, that was so much longer than I anticipated! Thank you for anyone who read the entire thing. And the chapters after won't be so long (hopefully).

Review please! (:


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All rights belong to Rick Riordan.**

**A/N **

**Ahh second chapter finally. It only took me a couple months... But anyway, here it is! Ta-da!**

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸ **

_"Here, just read off this card!"_

_ "Don't worry about it, she'll say yes."_

_ "Yeah, you're adorable!"_

_ "Okay, here I go." The scene shifted. We were sitting at a table, like one of those long white ones in a lunch room, across from each other. There were kids on either side of us, laughing and joking around. For some reason, he was wearing a wizard-type hat. There was an index card in his hand. I could read on the back 'Will you go out with me?' I pretended not to notice, and instead laughed at his jokes. Which, thankfully, were actually funny._

_ Then he turned the index card around._

_ "Atlanta, will you go out with me?" _

_ "Yes," I said, as if it were obvious. _

_**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**_

*Beep! *Beep! *Beep!

"Ugh," I groaned, rolling over. I searched for my phone on my bed. Finding it under the pillow, I pulled it out and the beeping got louder, no longer muffled by the pillow. I hit the button, turning off the alarm. Checking the time, I tried to convince myself that I could sleep another couple minutes.

"Atlanta, time to get up!" My mom shouted. Well, so much for that idea. I sat up again, and reached for the book I had been reading for the past couple days. It always took me forever to read, because of my dyslexia, but I wasn't half as bad withmy letters as I am with my numbers. And I like stories. I picked it up off the ground and frowned. Last thing I remembered, it had been on my bed. Of course, I toss and turn a lot, so it's possible the book had fallen off in the middle of the night.

"Atlanta!" My mom yelled again, "it's already can't be late."

_Why not?_ I wanted to ask. It was only camp. I don't think they really minded. I'm not even sure if there was a set time we had o be there.

"I'm up," I yelled back.

"Good, we need to leave in 48 minutes," my mom yelled. It frustrated me immensely that my mother was always so exact. Why not say 45 minutes? Or even 50 minutes?

After a quick shower, a brushing and flossing of teeth, and a change of clothes, I headed upstairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning honey," my mother smiled at me, "breakfast's on the table. I want you to eat everything on that plate, now, no messing around. You need to be full because we've got a long drive ahead of us."

"Okay," I sighed. Eating wasn't a favorite pastime of mine. I just figure that there's so many other things that I could be doing instead. I guess that's my ADHD kicking in.

"Atlanta, is that really what you're wearing?" My mother asked disdainfully. I looked down at my short short jeans I had cut myself, and my midnight blue tanktop. It's the middle of summer, what was I supposed to wear?

"Where's dad?" I asked, changing the subject.

"He's still asleep," my mother said, clearly distressed.

"Who's still asleep?" My dad entered the kitchen, in jeans and a t-shirt. I smiled.

"Honey, what are you wearing?" My mother complained.

"It's summer, and we're going to camp," he kissed her on the cheek, "I wasn't aware I had to dress all formal."

My mother rolled her eyes. "Eat," she told him. My father sat down across from me and winked. I smiled back at him.

"Atlanta, you could've at least done something with your hair. Or maybe tried a little makeup. Or done _something_ to make it look like you care." My mother said. I shrugged. I didn't care. My hair was in a ponytail, so it would be out of my face. And why put makeup on? I wore _glasses._ There was no point.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

Scratch that. There was a _perfectly_ good point. He was tall. He had brown hair. Green eyes. And his name was Mitch. Best thing about him? He was awkward, just like me. In the first couple minutes I had known him, he had tripped 4 times. I had only tripped once, when someone had thrown a rock at us.

Yup, so welcoming this camp was. Our guide told us not to pay any attention, that it was just the Ares cabin having fun. I didn't care. When I tripped, Mitch had tried to catch me. He ended up falling himself, but by then he had grabbed my arm, so I fell _with_ him, and next thing I knew, we were both on the ground, me on top of him, his arms around me. Of course, when I tried getting up, I accidentally stepped on his leg.

But it's okay. Because he had green eyes. And they were beautiful.

"So, that's our camp," our guide said, coming to a stop by the Big House, where our tour had started. He turned to me and Mitch, "any questions?"

I looked up at Mitch and pushed my glasses up. I was definitively putting in my contacts tomorrow. I had never really cared enough about my appearance to wear them. But now I had a reason. I was thanking every god I knew about that my mom had convinced me to bring them.

"I don't have any," Mitch said, "do you?"

"Nope," I said.

"Alright, cool," our guide said, "by the way, my name's Tristan. I'm in the Apollo cabin, if you guys think of anything."

"Cool," Mitch said. I laughed. Our guide, Tristan, laughed too.

"Okay, so do yo guys know which cabin you belong too?" Tristan asked. He looked genuinely curious. I started to die inside. I had absolutely no idea, and I didn't want to have to explain my strange situation in front of Mitch. I was actually making a friend, and I didn't want to screw it up.

"Oh, um, I'm the Hermes cabin thing," Mitch said. He looked confused, like he didn't know what that meant.

"Son of Hermes? Alright, that's the last cabin on the left." Mitch said, then turned to me, "do you know?"

"Um, not exactly," I said, starting to turn red. I stopped speaking, hoping Tristan wouldn't ask any more questions.

"That's cool," he said, "you'll just chill with the Hermes cabin until you find out."

I smiled. This was turning out even better than I had expected. Not only was I making friends with a really cute guy, but I was going to 'chill' with his cabin. For an entire summer. Things couldn't get better than this.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

"So was it your mom or your dad who's a god?" Someone asked me. She stretched out on her bunk. I was sitting on the edge of her bed, and Mitch was sitting next to me. We had kind of formed an unsaid alliance. Like we would stick with each other, because we were both new.

"Oh, um, actually," I started, not quite sure how to finish. I hugged my arms to my stomach, becoming increasingly self-conscious.

"What?" She asked, sitting up. Meg really liked the whole gossip thing. I had learned so much about the cabin I was in. Like the one boy who cried himself to sleep because he had been traumatized when he was younger. Or the girl who was in charge of the cabin, who had stolen some gold apple, an almost impossible, rarely given quest, usually reserved for guys. I had also learned o stay away from the Ares and the Aphrodite cabin. Apparently they were big jerks, who enjoyed torturing the rest of us camp-goers, mentally and physically.

"Well," I looked over at Mitch. He nodded, encouragingly, even though he had no idea what was about to say, "you've heard of Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, right?"

"Who hasn't?" Meg asked, dreamily, "it's such a romantic story! How they saved the world and fell in love? I heard they got married and actually had a kid!"

"Wait, who's Percy and Annabeth?" Mitch asked, dumbfounded.

"Only the greatest heroes of all times," Meg said. She turned to me, "go on."

"You're were saying something about them having a kid?" I asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Yeah."

"That's me," I whispered, my eyes on the floor. Meg fell silent, for once. I looked up, curious as to why she wasn't freaking out.

What I saw shocked me so much I jumped up. Meg and this other kid, who I hadn't even heard come over were kissing with such _passion_ it could almost be described as making out.

Meg pulled away from the kid, "oh sorry, this is my boyfriend, David. Don't worry, he's not a son of Hermes, just hanging out here until we find out who he is. And I swear to the gods, if he turns out to be Hermes I will murder somebody."

Mitch and I looked at each other, then away. I was wondering if he had heard who I was. I was also wondering if Meg had heard. I looked back at Meg, but she was going at it again with David, so I quickly looked away.

"Well, let's give them some privacy," Mitch said, standing up. I stood up too, scanning the room.

"Privacy?" I asked. The room was filled with kids. Apparently Hermes got around a lot. Or maybe just a lot of them hadn't been 'claimed' yet. There weren't even enough bunks in the cabin. Mitch and I had our own little spaces on the floor, where we could set up our stuff. We walked over to our spaces, his right next to mine. My heart started beating faster at the thought of sleeping so close together.

"Need some blankets and pillows?" A camper asked.

"Yeah, actually, that'd be great," Mitch said, speaking for the both of us.

"Here ya go," he tossed us some blankets and pillows, "but be quiet about it. I got those from the Big House itself."

"Oh, um, that's cool," I said.

"Being a son of Hermes, I got that stealth thing going on," he said, obviously proud of himself. Then he stalked away, and started talking to some other girl.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

**And that's Chapter 2! I hope you liked it. Read and review. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All rights belong to Rick Riordan.**

**A/N Yay! Chapter 3 is finally here. Will a prophecy be revealed? Well, I don't want to give away too much... ;D**

**Great. Now I need to come up with a prophecy. This should be fun. *Note the sarcasm which doesn't exactly come through over the computer.**

**Oh and PLEASE review. Not to be all, 'I need the attention if I should continue my writing!' But, like, why would I put more chapters up online if no one's reading them? It just takes time that I could be doing something else with. Like singing. And dancing.**

**But enough about my personal life. Here's chapter 3 :D**

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

"Atlanta, are you still up?" A voice whispered in the dark. My eyes fluttered open. I looked around for the source of the sound, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Who is it?" I whispered back. I didn't recognize the voice.

"It's me." Defiantly a guy. Why would a guy be talking to me in the middle o the night? Why would anyone?

"It's Mitch." Suddenly I felt incredibly stupid. I wanted to either laugh at myself, or hit myself. How blonde could I be? I mean, really, who else would be calling my name in the middle of the night. Wait, why _was_ Mitch calling my name in the middle of the night?

"Did you fall back asleep?" He laughed. I realized that I had been quiet for a long time. I instantly wanted to hurt myself again.

"No, I'm awake," I whispered back, "just wondering why someone would be calling my name in the middle of the night." Had I really just said that? That would either qualify as really rude, really pathetic, or really sarcastic. None of them were exactly good.

Mitch laughed. Thank the gods.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, answering my question. I nodded my head, then realized he probably couldn't see me in the dark.

"Oh, uh, yeah. That sucks," I said, awkwardly. I hadn't been exactly trained in the art of socializing, okay?

"Yeah. It does," Mitch said. Okay, apparently he hadn't either.

"So..." I trailed off, not wanting the conversation to end, but not knowing how to spark it.

"What's your last name?" Mitch asked.

"Um, what?" I said, a little uncomfortable with giving out important information like that. What if he turned out to be a stalker? A stalker with gorgeous eyes.

"That sounded kind of weird, didn't it?" He asked. I nodded again, then realized that, of course, he couldn't see me. Actually, my eyes were starting to adjust to the dark, so his probably were too. I wondered if I should say something, in case he hadn't seen me. Or what if I did, and he thought it was weird that I had nodded _and_ said 'yes'? Would he feel like 'yeah, I get it, that was a weird question. You only need to tell me once, okay?' and get all mad? Or would he get mad if he thought I hadn't answered at all? I really had no clue what to do. Thankfully, he started speaking again.

"Well, like, I hardly know you. To me, you're just Atlanta. No last name, no background, no history. I don't want to leave the camp not knowing anybody. So, I've decided that I'll get to know you. I want to make you real. I mean, it's only been a day, but you're pretty cool. And this camp is dangerous. I don't wan something to happen before I get a chance to know the real you," he said, his voice low and – may I please say it? Okay, I will – sexy. Gods, he was almost perfect. Of course, he had a point. I didn't really know him either.

"Jackson," I said, answering his earlier question.

"Jackson?" He asked, incredulously, "that's your last name?" For some reason, he sounded disappointed.

"Do you have a problem with my last name?" I asked, trying to keep things on a lighter note. Please, dear Poseidon, Athena, Aphrodite, whoever. _Please_ don't let me have messed things up already. But, like, what did I say?

"Jackson's your last name? Really?" Mitch asked. I suddenly got it. He didn't believe me. He thought I was lying. Because my last name's so common.

"Oh my gosh, I swear on my life, Jackson's my last name," I said, almost pleadingly.

He laughed. Why did he laugh? Wait, that was a good thing, right? That meant I still had a chance, right?

"For real?" He asked, his voice more uplifted than before.

"For real," I said.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

"Hey, wake up!" Someone shouted. I woke up, startled. It was daylight. The cabin was empty.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, groggily. It was Meg who stood above me.

"Out in the pavilion. Something... something bad happened last night. You slept right through the alarm system, and we decided to let you keep sleeping. But.. well, come on" she sounded really worried.

I got dressed quickly, putting on my new camp shirt, and donning the same shorts I had worn yesterday. I threw my glasses on, in a hurry, and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I came back out, Meg was still there, looking out the door, with a nervous expression on her face.

"I'm ready," I said. Meg nodded and lead me out of the cabin. We walked to the pavilion, where I could see a large group of maybe 120 kids standing and talking, in a scattered mess. There was no order. I wondered where Chiron, the camp, like, co-director or something, was. I knew Dionysus had had to go back to Mount Olympus for the summer solstice or something, but Chiron should've been there. He should've been controlling the campers.

"What's going on?" I asked Meg as we approached the mass of kids. I followed her, since she looked like she knew where she was going.

"Word is, Chiron was captured last night," she said solemnly. She looked like she was searching for somebody.

"Captured?" I asked, amazed, "he was _captured_?"

"Yup," Meg said, grimly.

"But how?" I really had no clue how he could've been taken. There were magical borders around the camp. Nothing could get in without permission. Not even weather.

"I don't know," Meg admitted. She found who she had been looking for and started walking faster, "Kellen. Kellen!" She yelled as she started running. I ran after her, not knowing what else to do. But I did look around at the other campers, searching for Mitch, wondering where he was. Mitch Batistelli. That was his last name. He was Italian.

We caught up to Kellen, an average sized guy with brown hair and blue eyes. The campers seemed centered around him. There was a red-haired woman next to him, probably about the same age as my parents. I wondered who exactly they was, and what Meg wanted with them.

"Kellen, this is Atlanta," Meg said, pushing me forward. I tripped (of course), but regained my balance before I fell on the ground. I'm a really smooth person, obviously.

"Hey," I said, trying to act cool. Not like I had just almost face-planted in front of him.

"Alanta's the one who's ¼ god," she said, like it was really important. I looked over, quickly. I hadn't realized that she had heard that last night.

"Kind of scrawny, huh?" Kellen said, disdainfully, "oh well. A prophecy's a prophecy. Nothing can be done about it," he gave the red-haired woman next to him a bad look.

"C'mon, Kellen, let's go calm the other campers," Meg said. She winked at me, grabbed Kellen's hand, and led him away.

"That's just Kellen,. He's annoyed, because he wants to lead this quest. What a fool..." the red-haired woman said. She tried to smile at me, but it was obvious she was too worried to do so, "my name's Rachel. You're Percy's daughter?"

"Um yeah," I said, slowly. How did she know that?

"Well, that makes you just the kid I was looking for. Let's go somewhere more private," she said.

I hesitated, unsure. I didn't want to go with this person I didn't know to a place I didn't know. I was starting to understand Mitch. Where _was_ that kid?

"I don't bite," she said, trying to humor me.

"Okay," I said reluctantly.

"Alright, let's go to my home to talk."

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

I was in a cave. This woman lived in a _cave._ What even.

"I guess I'll just say it right out. I am the host of the Oracle of Delphie, Speaker of Prophecies," Rachel said, nonchalantly. Like people told me all the time that they hosted spirits.

"Oh, that's, uh, great," I said.

"Your father never mentioned me?" She asked, her eyes and smile sad.

"Um, no," I said, "sorry."

"It's not our fault," she said, laughing, "alright, well, enough of that. Let's talk prophecies. You know what they are, right?"

"Of course," I said, hoping she wasn't about to launch into a big lecture on prophecies and stuff. That didn't exactly sound like fun.

"Okay, good," she said, "you ever wanted to be in one?"

I felt the dread start setting in.

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

_Four hastily hurry_

_ To the place full of berries_

_ To rescue the one,_

_ The Titan Lord's son_

_ A demi-demi god shall defeat the wrong_

_ A creature, unfortunately, lead astray by a song_

_ A lover's life_

_ Is the fateful price_

_ Rags to riches_

_ In mother's ditches._

**¸.•*¨*• •*¨*•.¸¸**

**Okay, wow, is it just me, or was this chapter really paragaphy? I don't even know if 'paragraphy' ****is even a word. But, whatever. I feel like I start out these stories strong, but end up getting worse and worse as they progress o.o Does anyone have any advice on how not to let that happen?**

**Anyway, I hope that prophecy makes sense. Well, not make **_**sense**_**, obviously. That would defeat the point. But, I hope it makes you wonder:D Like 'where is this place full of berries?' 'What creature?' "What song?' 'And, who is the prophecy talking about when it says **_**A lover's life, the fateful price.**_**' **

**Hahaha, I really do hope you liked this chapter. And the chapter before. And the chapter before. And the prophecy. I'm actually kind of proud it.**

**Read and review. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.**


End file.
